Chapter 138: The Southern Star's Legacy
The Cinco Estate on First Street was cloaked in the soft glow of lantern light as Vander Cinco, his main guard, and two additional guards stood respectfully before a man in a white, featureless mask, and confident aura. The man’s white robe, lined with intricate silver patterns, shimmered faintly, giving him an otherworldly presence. His demeanor was calm but exuded a quiet authority.
Vander’s voice was filled with a mixture of reverence and gratitude. “We are honored to have you as our special guest, and we deeply appreciate your generosity in sharing your knowledge and providing us with valuable artifacts.”
The masked man, who had insisted on being addressed as Hollow Mask, responded with a measured tone. “It was a fair transaction,” he said, his voice carrying an eerie, detached quality. “I received my compensation, and in return, I have the pleasure of staying in the Cinco family’s villa. This town holds immense potential—a place brimming with opportunities and a bright future, especially for those like me.”
Vander’s curiosity was piqued. “You mentioned something about being a Pseudo Apostle earlier. What exactly does that mean?”
Silver Mask’s eyes gleamed behind the mask. “A Pseudo Apostle is someone who has surpassed the limitations of ordinary life through various means. They’ve learned to manipulate mana in ways that grant them abilities beyond the imagination of mundane folk. It’s a step above the average, but not the pinnacle.”
Vander leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “And what of an Apostle? How do they differ?”
Hollow Mask chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth. “An Apostle is a being who has taken the step that most Pseudos hesitate to take. They can freely control and store mana within themselves, wielding it with an ease and power far surpassing Pseudos. Apostles are individuals of great potential, capable of shaping the world around them—or destroying it. They could reduce a town like Reinhart to ashes if they so desired.”
The weight of these words settled heavily on Vander. His eyes narrowed with concern. “Are there any Apostles here in Reinhart?”
Hollow Mask laughed, a hollow, almost mocking sound. “Apostles are rare and difficult to find. Achieving that rank is a monumental task, one that eludes most. No, there are no Apostles in Reinhart. However,” his tone grew serious, “there are several other Pseudos. Each of them is searching for the key that will unlock their path to becoming an Apostle, grasping for that elusive piece of knowledge.”
Vander felt a mixture of relief and apprehension. The thought of having Apostles in the town was daunting, but knowing there were other Pseudos meant there was competition—a race for power and influence.
He steeled himself, recognizing the opportunity before him. With Hollow Mask’s guidance, his family could rise above the rest, becoming the most respected and powerful in not only Reinhart but also Bask.
“I’ll be cautious,” Vander assured, his voice filled with determination. “We’ll handle the artifacts with care.”
Hollow Mask nodded. “Good. And don’t shy away from attending the gatherings organized by the mayor and the enforcement team. They’re likely employing a Pseudo of their own, aiming to educate and raise awareness about magic. It could be a chance to learn more about your competition.”
Turning to leave, Hollow Mask added, “I’ll be retreating to my cottage on your estate. I ask not to be disturbed.” His tone left no room for argument.
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Vander and his guards nodded, watching as Hollow Mask strode away, his presence as enigmatic as ever. Vander felt a surge of ambition. With this man’s knowledge and the artifacts now in his possession, the Cinco family was poised to secure a future filled with power and prestige.
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On Fifth Street, inside of the starry villa, Abel closed the ancient tome, Star Chart, and Nomad’s Trek, his hands trembling slightly as he processed the information. Seated in his lab, he stared at the worn cover, his mind whirling with the vivid and unsettling imagery from the book.
The text was written by an ancient individual of no name and described an ancient era when the skies were ablaze with countless stars, each representing a different power or entity. Over time, worshippers began to venerate these celestial bodies, forming sects and orders that spread across Bask. These devotees, known as Stellar Nomads, wandered the lands, spreading the teachings of their respective stars in hopes of gaining more followers.
As the narrative unfolded, it described how certain stars grew in power, overshadowing others, and ultimately disrupting the cosmic balance. This led to a celestial conflict, a war that spanned years, where the skies were illuminated by blinding battles between the stars. The nomads mirrored these wars on the ground, engaging in bloody conflicts that decimated entire sects.
Through this war, many stars fell, their light extinguished, along with the death of their followers. Yet, from the ashes, new stars were born, heralding new ages. The skies eventually found a fragile peace, until one fateful day when the largest southern star began a relentless campaign, devouring its neighboring stars and growing ominously powerful.
This star’s hunger for dominance incited the ire of the remaining stars, leading to its banishment after a titanic struggle. Shackled and cast away, the southern star vanished from the skies bound to never return. The text suggested that while some believed the star had long since died, others feared it remained, dormant, waiting for its chance to return.
One passage stood out to Abel—the stars were described as the embodiments of individuals at the pinnacle of various races. Their brilliance reflected their strength, and the dimness of their light could signify their decline or death. Abel’s thoughts turned inward, questioning whether his own actions—devouring a faint star—had impacted another being, perhaps ending their time in this world. He also questioned why he didn't feel an attraction to any specific star in the sky and instead, his star was within himself.
Though the book contained theories and hypotheses that seemed outlandish, and it didn't delve into deeper detail, it provided kernels of knowledge that Abel could use for future research. The possibilities it hinted at were vast and disconcerting. Despite the convoluted nature of the text, it offered Abel a new perspective on the cosmos and his own place within it. However, the author was unnamed and Abel still needed to validate some of the facts.
Setting the book aside, Abel turned his attention back to his current experiments. Before him lay a single strand of silver hair, which had exhibited peculiar properties. Each time he attempted to channel mana into it, the hair repelled the energy, as if defying the very laws of magic. Abel was intrigued—this was unlike anything he had encountered before. What kind of creature could produce such an anomaly?
His gaze shifted to the feline skin he had been studying. The skin possessed a remarkable regenerative ability, clinging to objects with tendril-like appendages and healing itself from cuts, burns, and other damage. Despite his various methods to test its limits, the skin always regenerated, leaving Abel both fascinated and unnerved.
The lab itself has undergone significant improvements in recent days. New tools and tables lined the space, and an aid station had been set up with beds and equipment for emergency use. The once-bare area now looked more like a fully equipped research facility, reflecting Abel’s dedication to understanding the mysteries before him.
Lately, the town had been calm, a quiet before an impending storm. Abel had even conducted a class, a refined version of the lesson he had shared with the Enforcement team, focusing on the basics of magic and its potential dangers. His efforts to educate and prepare the town had been well-received, fostering a growing sense of respect and trust among the bigger families, at least on the surface.
As Abel jotted down notes, a ripple in the air above him caught his attention. His gaze lifted just in time to see a petal descend slowly from the disturbance. Reaching out, he touched it, and a surge of information flooded his mind. It was a message from Mr. One, detailing the time and location for their upcoming expedition to the ruins.
Abel’s lips curled into a smile. The time had finally come.